


delusions of grandeur

by neoneco



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 16:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13011657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoneco/pseuds/neoneco
Summary: Eobard Thawne escaped from the meta-human wing of Iron Heights Prison with only one goal in mind: destroy the Flash.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey so my boy is Not Straight and also it didn't make sense to me that he would risk Everything just to kill barry before he became the flash, thus creating a paradox and risking wiping himself from existence, unless he felt he had nothing to lose.
> 
> and if he had nothing to lose, there'd be no draw in returning to the future, would there?
> 
> big thanks to @drdone on tumblr, and @breeisonfire on here. without you, this would be 200 words long. ily bree.

He had been patient. It wasn't hard to be patient when all you could do is wait. So he waited, and he waited, and when the opportunity came, he seized it.    
  
Eobard Thawne escaped from the meta-human wing of Iron Heights Prison with only one goal in mind: destroy the Flash.   
  
It had taken an algorithm, a week of carefully tracking which direction he went in, and some research into S.T.A.R. Labs known associates. Eobard had cross referenced any new faces with the Flash' height and weight profile. He had been left with one person.   
  
Allen. Bartholomew Henry Allen. _Barry_. Chief of Central City police force, father of two, twins, and husband to a reporter for CCPN, Iris West-Allen. Apparently he ran track in high school.   
  
Eobard suited up. He gleefully ransacked downtown Central City, throwing merchandise, breaking windows. All to lure Allen out. When Allen finally revealed himself, Eobard could hardly contain himself. He pounced.   
  
"My, my, my. Can't even keep little old me in jail, can you? What would your children have to say about that? Their father, a failure. Poor little Dawn. Poor Donnie. They're only five, and already so many disappointments."   
  
Allen's eyes didn't widen. He only smiled grimly, like he'd been expecting this.   
  
"So, you know, huh?"   
  
Eobard narrowed his eyes. This non-reaction wasn't what he was expecting at all.   
  
"Yes" he said, thrown off. "Bartholomew Allen. Born March 14, 1989 to Nora and Henry Allen at Central City General Hospital. Your mother's still living at 2146 Holly Drive isn't she? Why don't I pay her a visit after we're done here."   
  
The Flash just shook his head.   
  
"You're not going to do that."   
  
"Oh? And why is that? Because you're going to stop me? Just like you stopped me from breaking out?"    
  
"Yeah," the Flash said. He smiled again, looking wane. "I'll always defeat you. There's no move you can make that I won't be able to see coming. You don't know this yet, but we've been at this for years. And I know I'm always going to defeat you, because I know you, I know the way you think, and honestly? I know what you're doing here, Thawne."   
  
Eobard stood very still for a moment that felt like an eternity.   
  
"What I'm… doing here?”    
  
The Flash rolled his eyes.   
  
"Yeah, I know you keep hanging around because you're, like, in love with me or something."   
  
It felt like he'd been gut punched.    
  
Who was it that said the opposite of love wasn't hate, it was indifference? He could feel it. The chasm separating them.   
  
He saw now. Allen didn't care about him. He never would, either. Eobard had never had a chance.    
  
When he found out he was destined to be the Flash' nemesis, he had been hurt, but it was tolerable. After all, it was _something_. Any interaction with him was better than nothing. They'd fight and they'd banter and it was like something out of a movie. Maybe it was stupid, but he'd thought they'd had something. A bond.    
  
Allen's cold eyes told a different story.    
  
Eobard's stomach dropped out from under him. He'd spent his life chasing after a man who wanted nothing to do with him. And what did he have to show for it?   
  
Nothing. He had worse than nothing; he had the certainty that he would always be a failure and the indifference of the man he'd give anything to leave an impression on.   
  
An idea, the result of his surging resentment and hatred and mania, popped into his head.   
  
The Flash wanted a villain? He'd be a villain.   
  
He would wipe the Flash clean out of existence.

He launched himself forward, screaming in anger, and punched and kicked and grappled at high speeds. He fought like a wild animal, while in the back of his mind, he considered the idea he had had.    
  
There could only be three possible outcomes.   
  
The first, and debatably best- he'd succeed in killing a young Barry Allen, thus stopping him from becoming the Flash. Hypothetically, his status as a time traveler and speedster would protect Eobard from the changes he'd make, thus avoiding a catastrophic paradox.   
  
The second, and honestly most likely - he would fail. Barry Allen would become the Flash no matter what changes he could attempt because just like Eobard's own status as a speedster and connection to the Speed Force would protect him, so too would Barry Allen be protected.   
  
The third, and objectively worst - Eobard would succeed in erasing the Flash and destroy the universe. The paradox he would make by killing the Flash before he could become the Flash, and thus prompt Eobard to kill him, would tear the universe apart.

Or maybe it would just kill Eobard.    
  
He had nothing holding him back, certainly not fear of death. Not anymore. Not really. If he failed, then he failed. If he succeeded, he could live in a world without the Flash, a torture and a blessing in its own right. He could live a life free of destiny.  If he really failed, he'd die - but would he rather live with this, this pain?    
  
He came to a decision, moving quickly and ducking away from Allen. The Flash, not expecting him to turn tail and run, hesitated for a millisecond before giving chase. That millisecond of leeway was more than enough time to give Eobard the space he would need to enter a wormhole he'd punched in space.    
  
Fingers brushed his arm and shoulder, frantically pulling backward and trying to slow him; the Flash had been close enough to follow him through the portal.    
  
He lost his footing and stumbled, dropping out of the speed force too early, Instead of April, 1989, one month after Barry Allen had been born, he came out March, 2000. Barry would have just turned eleven.    
  
The plan could still work.    
  
Behind him, the Flash' movements grew more erratic. His time sense wasn't as good as Eobard's, but he knew they had traveled in time. And, more importantly, he recognized the street he'd grown up on.   
  
__ 2146 Holly Drive, 2146 Holly Drive, 2146 Holly D- Aha!   
  
He barged into the Allen's home, the Flash hot on his heels. A woman he could only assume to be Nora Allen stood in the room right off the foyer. He angled himself for the stairs, but the Flash finally found purchase and threw him against the wall by his mother.   
  
They fought at such high speeds that Nora, when she screamed, was utterly inaudible in the center of the room. Her hair blew around her, in the maelstrom of wind and electricity they created. A man, who could only be Dr. Henry Allen, stood on the fringes, yelling into whirlwind taking place in front of him.    
  
And then a boy stepped into the room.   
  
The Flash noticed first. They both threw themselves towards the boy, but the Flash had the advantage. He barreled into Eobard, using him as a springboard to launch himself towards his younger self. Eobard crashed, instead, into Henry Allen, who lost consciousness.   
  
Allen snatched himself up and whisked the boy out of there. Eobard, sprawled where he had been pushed, knew there was no chance of catching him. The Flash would likely just squirrel his younger self away before coming back to continue their fight.    
  
Allen's mother, beside him, sobbed. Hot, bubbling anger welled up at the sound. He could still hurt the Flash. He could hurt the Flash so badly that Barry Allen would never recover.

His eyes zeroed in on the knife Henry had had in his hand, now laying on the floor. He picked it up. Then, he turned to the woman still kneeling on the floor.    
  
She tried to crawl backwards, but they both knew she couldn't escape. Eobard could feel the Flash' connection to the speed force growing closer, but even so, Allen was too far to make it in time. Eobard swallowed his nerves. He swung the knife.    
  
Barry Allen skidded to a stop in the foyer of his childhood home just in time to watch his mother's body crumple to the floor. He was at her side in an instant, hands fluttering anxiously around her wound, wanting to stop the bleeding but knowing he couldn't remove the knife. She was dying, and she was doing it too quickly for even the Flash to stop it.    
  
It wasn't enough. The Flash hadn't been erased. It was all for nothing. He was _still there_.   
  
Allen was still supporting his mother's weakening form when Eobard plunged his hand into his vulnerable back.   



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big thanks to @drdone on tumblr and all the people on the eobarry discord server - yall were all a big inspiration. :)

He felt... numb. He had removed his hand from Allen's chest, but he stood stock still over the pair of them, mother and son.  
  
There was so much _blood_.  
  
Eobard had never killed anyone before. Not really. Sure, people had died as a result of his actions, on occasion, but never like this. He'd never seen it this close, watched the life, all movement and energy, seep out when someone was dying. Deaths before this had always been observed at a distance.  
  
He had been _so sure_ that killing Nora would destroy his Flash, the one who had grown up with both his parents. He had forgotten, in his haste, about Allen's own time traveler status. How the thrum of the speed force that protected Eobard would, in turn, protect Allen. When it hadn't worked, he had been so shaken that he had killed the Flash using his bare hands.

Feeling the Flash’ heart spasm in his hand was a level of intimacy that Eobard had never wanted.  
  
It didn't feel real. He couldn't believe what he had done. The Flash was _dead._ He had _killed_ the _Flash._ He didn't believe it, couldn't believe it, couldn't breathe, he couldn't -  
  
Henry Allen stirred beside him, snapping him back to reality.

Right. Clean-up now, freak out later.

He couldn't be seen here. Time was fragile enough as it is.  He had to go.  
  
Moreso, he couldn't let Barry Allen's thirty five year old body be discovered here. Who knew what effect it would have on this new timeline? Eobard would have to dispose of it himself.  
  
He pulled the Flash off of Nora with quick efficiency. The man's body was still warm, his joints still malleable. It was almost as if he was asleep. The lifeless slump of his shoulders and the uncharacteristic stillness of his body were the only things to indicate something was amiss. Holding him wasn't unlike holding a mannequin; the speed force that had pulsed through both their bodies just moments before was now missing from one of them. The Flash had finally stopped.  
  
He left, only stopping after thirty seconds of full tilt running. He had broken the speed barrier, and a distant sonic boom echoed after him when he skidded to a stop.

The problem lie with fact that he couldn't afford not to monitor the situation as it was developing at the Allen house. He had created a paradox by killing Barry's mother and traumatizing the boy. This Barry Allen may not even become the Flash. Which would mean Eobard would not have a motive to travel back in time to destroy him. Time would either stretch around the change he had made, or it would snap like a cold rubber band. The paradox of his actions could, in theory, rip the timeline apart or worse, erase only Eobard in order to resolve it.

Thus, his dilemma. He didn't have time to secure a proper hiding place for the body, nor could he afford to leave the body here only for it to be discovered later. If Barry Allen's body were to be identified as genetically identical to the eleven year old Barry Allen, things could get a little dicey.  He would have to leave leave the body and return later to move it to a more permanent resting place. He deposited the Flash’ body, gently, at the base of a massive tree just a few miles north of Central City, carefully noted the location, and starting the run back.

He only went so close as a few houses down from the Allens'. If a singularity was going to form, his best guess was that it would occur at the scene of the crime.  
  
And crime it was. Henry Allen came to to an unconscious, barely breathing wife, and he immediately called the paramedics. In desperately trying to save her, and stabilize her wound,  he spread his DNA and prints all over the scene. When the young Barry Allen made it home from wherever his, now deceased, older self had stashed him, he did so to his father being led to a squad car, covered in blood. The man and boy were both crying.  
  
Eobard watched them, feeling conflicted. He'd ruined these people's lives. It wasn't something he could make himself feel proud of. The cold anaesthetic of the reasoning he had used when he escaped slipped away, and left a hollow feeling.

Objectively speaking, he had won. He was rid of the Flash, possibly forever, and he hadn't erased himself from history in the process. He had had his revenge. Hell, he had finally gotten what he'd wanted, hadn't he? 

But… what now?  
  
He had spent the majority of his life fixated on the Flash. He could run back to his time, but what would be the point of returning? He didn't have anything in the 22nd century anymore, and certainly nothing in the years he had just come from in the 21st. He didn't want return to academia, either, to take students again. He couldn't bear to look at their young faces. Not after all he had done.

Nora Allen's blood was still smeared on him where his suit had supported her dead son. 

No, he couldn't imagine going back to the life he had before this.  
  
He had nothing and no one anymore, not even a goal. The thought was...  disconcerting. His eyes wandered back to the sobbing boy sitting on the porch of his house. One of the officers had offered the boy his coat, and Allen clung to it like a life jacket. As he watched, another idea popped into Eobard's head.  
  
He killed his Flash, that's true. But who was to say that this young Barry Allen couldn't replace him?  
  
Plans started to outline themselves in his head. He could make a Flash he could be proud of, a Flash that would really deserve the hero worship of children. The admiration of his peers.  
  
He could mould this young Barry Allen into the kind of hero that the young Eobard Thawne had devoted himself to, all those years ago. 

First, though, he had a body to bury.


End file.
